


The Light in the Dark

by hernameinthesky



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, But hopeful angst, Canon Compliant, Friendship, Gen, Second War with Voldemort, Trick or Treat: Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26988919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hernameinthesky/pseuds/hernameinthesky
Summary: Halloween 1997. While Harry and Hermione search for Horcruxes, others are doing their part too.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 9
Collections: Trick or Treat Exchange 2020





	The Light in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beelzebubble_tea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beelzebubble_tea/gifts).



> Happy Halloween!

He’d really thought they’d be here. He’d been so sure that Harry would be drawn to this place tonight.

Ron sits on the cold, wet pavement, feet in the gutter and backpack beside him, head in his hands. The trick-or-treating children are long gone, but there are still a few people out, stumbling home drunk from parties. No one’s laughing. They keep their heads down, clustering together. Even the Muggles know something’s up. He thinks maybe they’re lucky they don’t know what’s coming for them; nothing has ever scared him as much as knowing what’s in store for Harry. Something worse even than his past. Behind him is the skeleton of a house. The ruin of his best friend’s childhood. The ruin of his whole life, really.

And Ron is just sitting here feeling sorry for himself.

He gets to his feet jerkily, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. Harry wouldn’t just sit here if his plan didn’t work out. Nor would Hermione, though the chances of a plan of her’s not working are far lower. _She’s too good for you and she knows it. Who would ever want you? You are_ weak _. That’s what makes it so easy-_

“Shut up!” Ron hisses.

He straightens his shoulders, turns one last time to look at the Potter’s old house. He will find them and he’ll make it up to them. He’ll crush that creeping whisper for all of them.

*

She’s always loved Halloween, loves any reason to dress up. Not this year. This year she’s dressed in Slytherin robes stolen from the laundry. Lavender is dressed the same and holding tightly to her hand as they creep down the dark, cold passage to the dungeons. It had been Lavender’s idea - they were breaking curfew, but two Slytherins heading to the dungeons might be overlooked.There aren’t many portraits down here so they risk a Wand-Lighting Charm. The pale light throws their shadows across the stone, turning them into thin, distorted creatures.

“Neville said it was just down here,” Parvati whispers, pulling Lavender down a narrow side passage. Her palm is sweaty against Lavender’s, but neither of them lets go. She can hear her heartbeat and her breath comes faster as they approach a small door. It looks like every other door in the castle, but when Parvati tries to turn the knob, it doesn’t open.

“Do we use ‘Alohomora’?” Lavender asks.

Parvati trembles where she stands. Neville has told her that the kids in here are strung up in the air, held upside down until they weep or faint or vomit. If they’re caught, that’s the least that will happen to them. Fear is a cold, sick feeling in her stomach. She can’t make herself move forward.

“We could go back,” she says.

Lavender looks at her with wide eyes, biting her lip. They’ve been best friends for six years; Parvati knows Lavender won’t turn back. She doesn’t have such faith in herself.

Seamus is in there.

“We have to be prepared for a Carrow,” she says. “We unlock the door and go in quick, stun anyone in there. Anyone who’s not, y’know, in detention.”

“Alright. You’re better at ‘Alohomora’ than I am.”

Parvati nods. Squeezes Lavender’s hand once before letting go. She steps forward with her wand outstretched.

*

Cho’s kettle whistles merrily, reminding her of the Hogwart’s Express. She doesn’t want to go back to school, but the sound makes her nostalgic all the same.

“Do you remember that time a toad escaped on the school train?” she says as she hands a cup of tea over to Marietta.

“Yes, it was awful. Nasty little thing.”

Marietta shudders dramatically. She’s sitting with her elbows resting on the table, tired smudges beneath her eyes.

“I don’t know, I always kind of liked toads.”

“You didn’t like it jumping all over the compartment.”

“I didn’t like not knowing where it was going to land. It was Neville Longbottom’s, I think.”

She looks at Marietta over the top of her cup, trying to see if the name means anything to her. If it does, she hides it well.

“Better than that dementor at least,” she says, with a genuine shudder. “I still can’t believe they let those things guard the school.”

“And now they’re drifting around everywhere.”

“Yes. Well.” Marietta frowns. “The Ministry is trying to get them under control.”

Is she being careful not to look at Cho? Above all, Cho hates the distrust gnawing at her heart. Hates that they can make her feel like this.

Her mobile phone (brand new, no numbers saved) buzzes. She glances at it casually, then locks it and puts it back in her pocket.

“I better be off,” Marietta says, draining the last of her drink.

“You’re welcome to stay the night.”

“Nah. I’ve got to be up early tomorrow.” She yawns, stretching her arms above her head and letting it out in a long gust of air. “I’ll talk to you later this week.”

“Alright.”

Cho goes in automatically for a hug, but to her surprise Marietta’s arms tighten almost painfully around her, not letting her go for a long minute. She’s frowning when she pulls away.

“Take care of yourself, alright?” she says, the sincerity of the words taking Cho off guard.

“Yeah, you too,” she says after a moment. Marietta smiles and squeezes her arms, then turns to the fireplace. In the flickering green light, the scars across her face flare vividly. _SNEAK_. Cho hates Hermione Granger for that.

When the fire has fallen back to it’s regular orange, she gets her phone out again and sends a text, then she refills the kettle and gets out another mug.

Five minutes later there’s a knock at the door, and she opens it to find Lee Jordan with a witch she doesn’t recognise.

“Anne, this is Cho. She’s going to take care of you. Cho, Anne.”

Cho smiles and shakes Anne’s hand. Her grip is cold and tremulous. She has a black eye and it looks like she’s wearing pyjamas under her cloak.

“Come in. Any bags?”

“No,” Lee answers when Anne doesn’t. “She’ll have to stay with you for a few days while we sort out papers for her.”

“No problem,” Cho says easily.

Lee leaves soon after that, back to his own safe house or maybe to pick up another Muggle-born, Cho doesn’t know. Anne still hasn’t said a word. She watches every movement Cho makes, and Cho thinks painfully of what it must be like for your fate to be entirely in someone else’s hands. She smiles again and offers Anne a biscuit.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “I’ll take care of you. We’re going to get through this.”


End file.
